


Bete Noire

by xuhei



Series: Jvedarah [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: And angst, F/M, Smut, and fluff, elder scrolls is similar if you like that shit just romance too!!, royal au, the last three are cameos, this started a whole royal plot line
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 10:50:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15970805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xuhei/pseuds/xuhei
Summary: "She will soon be a princess or a queen. She is special and all will remember her name..." You say softly. Junmyeon is inspired to write the next greatest novel just from the look you give when observing the artwork. "But she is silent right now. Prince Junmyeon, is she the lady who will take your hand in the future?"Junmyeon hesitantly nods. He doesn’t wish to say yes because that was never going to be completely set in stone. “She is, yes.”“Muzhsta is so lucky to be marrying someone so pretty!”





	Bete Noire

**Author's Note:**

> Before you start, some meanings: 
> 
> Noona is the Korean equivalent of [chynarej]   
> Hyung is the Korean equivalent of [muzhsta]

He sits on the window ledge with a book placed on his knees. The sun, the close to setting was enough to like the pages of the ancient soldiers’ place that he plans to learn and play. He is enlightened by the laughter of children who play in the capital, the sounds falling through the open casement room in tower. A man may fear that they might a fallout of a height like this, but it is not a care for the Prince.          

Kim Junmyeon was not the prince that everyone wanted. The last time he picked up a sword was during his education with Prince Yixing of Muucar. The people wanted a prince like him, not like Junmyeon. Right now, he had just accepted his fate as the least desired Prince due to his supposed ‘ _weak qualities_ ’ and ‘ _inability to lead_ ’. Well, his father telling him those words was far easier to take than being told the same thing by someone who would one day not have to love him.

“Prince Junmyeon,” a voice calls. The said Prince looks to his left and hums in response, noticing the eyes of his good friend Minho standing in the door way. Minho had eased his way into sorting out property and finances for Haveghem’s royals, but similarly was one of the only people who fully understood Junmyeon’s passions and interests. “The King is looking for you. He says it is important.”

Junmyeon raises a brow at Minho. “Did he say what it was for?”

“They are discussing downstairs what will happen in the case that the King becomes sick this winter. They wish for you to be down there so you can assert your point of view, especially in regards to King Wu Yifan,” Minho tells Junmyeon. The messenger bows, moving away from the door and letting the door close once more. 

Junmyeon knows himself what will happen if he goes down to the King and his loyal subjects whom he trusts so much. He will be mocked like always, told to return to the tower he resides in and continue to plan out the fantasies that would never come true. Most of the nobles around Haveghem didn't wish for him to even be Prince, many had said that the king should send him to the mountains and even disown him. It was better that way, they said. 

Fortunately the King did have some kind of heart, no matter how small it was, and believed that Junmyeon would know what to do in Haveghem’s time of need. The King who no longer wished to refer to Junmyeon as ‘son’, but wanted him to be Prince alone, kept the mindset that Junmyeon had inherited some leadership skills in his time. Not all had lost hope in Junmyeon of course, but it was rare to find a soul who didn't favour one of Junmyeon’s half siblings. 

So he goes to where he is called with a sigh falling from his lips when he sees the assembled court at the bottom of the spiral staircase. In some ways, he wishes that he wasn't blessed with this gift at a chance to rule a kingdom because it put him in a position that meant he couldn't live his life as he wanted. He would have no time for those menial things he felt to be the most important things to him – love, arts and poetry. 

Junmyeon hears the mechanic laughter of the people around him from one poorly said joke of another old man at the expense of the Prince Himself. He shudders, shaking his head at his own foolish ways for coming down here. It was just another meeting to remind Junmyeon of how weak he is, of that he is sure. Junmyeon hates it here. He hates the men that surround the King he can no longer bear to call father. 

Instead, he focuses on the laughter of the children that's so much more natural outside. The calls of the maids for the children to watch for the guards and the exact same guards who just humbly let the children carry on with what they are doing. Junmyeon successfully avoids the meeting that there was an attempt to pull him in to, turning around the corner that took him away from what he didn't want to be a part of. He ends up outside, the last of the Sun now warming his own body as he stands so calmly in the mitts of nature. 

His presence is noticed immediately outside. The children come to a stop, the maids now their heads in honour of the King they wish to see one day, and the guards do a similar movement but for a completely different reason. Junmyeon had come to notice that the ones who supported him where those who shared pacifist mindset as he. The mothers, the wives and the children of those he sent to war. 

“Muzhsta! Look at these flowers!” A boy calls, one which Junmyeon recognises to be his cousin on his father’s side. 

Prince Junmyeon does not hesitate to follow the calls from his relative, since the young boy poses no threat to the Prince. His words cannot hurt for the young royal knows only that the bad in this world comes from war and Minyurta, not from a Prince who doesn't support the idea of war. Beauty, for this young boy, comes with nature. Junmyeon wishes that he had the chance to remain in mindset like this. 

“They are so colourful,” the boy comments. He looks up to the Prince with wondering eyes and smiles gently. “You have been to Daschem haven't you, muzhsta? Do you think there are pretty flowers like this over there?”

Junmyeon nods but doesn't frown like he wishes to. “Haveghem is the most beautiful of all the countries, none of the other places can compare. Why are you concerned about Daschem?”

“Mother says that we will have to move over there for the King, muzhsta. She says that King Yifan will want us to live over there to show we support him. But, I don't want to leave Haveghem. I will miss you, and everyone here. I don't want to live in Isicanu, Muzhsta.”

Prince Junmyeon wishes that the power that came with being a Prince was much stronger for him. Of course if it was Prince Yixing or Prince Minseok or even Prince Baekhyun in his position, they'd have more of a say in this. He knew why his father was sending his cousins to Daschem – his father wished to send over family to show allegiance but also to give Wi Yifan options for a future bride. Whilst Junmyeon himself hated the idea, it seemed to be one that the King of Daschem supported (probably from his own greed, mind you). 

“If you must leave, then all I can tell you is that you must admire what you have around you already. Remember these meadows and you can dream about it every day. I'll paint for you and write to you about the flowers every day,” Junmyeon promises. He has never broken a promise before, and this might be a promise he actually enjoys keeping. It is not about how much money he will pay to keep someone quiet or how much he'll do on the throne; it is from his Heath. 

“Muzhsta-ah! I still don't want to go and leave you!” The boy protests. He pouts at his elder and crosses his arms over his chest to emphasise his annoyed demeanour. “Can I stay in your room, muzhsta? I'll hide under your bed and only come out to play with you and listen to you sing! Chynarej will help, won't you chynarej?”

Junmyeon laughs to himself at the boy’s protests, looking up to where the boy is pointing to. It is his chynarej, the young maid of Junmyeon’s age that was put in charge of the boy just after he was born. 

“Sanghyuk, that's no way to talk to the Prince,” you say softly, crouching down to the boy’s level and offering out your hand. Junmyeon notices how you simply act as if he's not there – all the servants around here are forced into silence around their _owners_ here. Junmyeon can relate. He wishes that you'd speak to him like you spoke to the others. “My apologies, Prince Junmyeon. I'll take him back to the keep now.”

Truth be that Junmyeon has seen you around. He's watched you tending to the children and so begrudgingly following your elders around to clear up after them. He wishes that he could say something to you and get a genuine response but you have been conditioned not to talk to him because you're below him and, well, that's _wrong._

The only time he could speak to you was if he had a criticism or task for you to carry out but he had none. He didn't feel the need like the others around him to make women do everything for him. This obviously put him at a disadvantage because he wanted to speak to you; he wanted to hear the voice of the girl he watched from his window from time to time addressing him and him alone. He wanted a conversation. He wishes not to be as lonely as he is now. 

“I'll write something every day for you Sanghyuk, I promise you. If I don't then you can come back to Haveghem and I'll take your place in Daschem. Do we have a deal?” 

Sanghyuk looks up to his chynarej again with an inquisitive look on his face. He's too young to properly understand deals and negotiations, and this gives Junmyeon an opportunity to look up to you. He almost catches your eyes on his – _almost._ The second he has catch your figure your eyes are away from him and your head is slightly bowed again. 

Prince Junmyeon is unfortunately reminded of when the two of you last spoke. He can assume the reason you won't look at him is in fear something similar will happen. Of course, Junmyeon was only nine and you not any older, but even at a young age the royal family scolded you for asking the Prince what he was drawing. They said servants should not mix with royals, yet Junmyeon was quite happy to have told you that it was a tall cherry blossom that lined the road to Qucim – yet you would not know what a cherry blossom was because you hadn't left your home in the tower. 

“Answer the Prince, Sanghyuk,” you say softly. Junmyeon let's himself smile when you shift your eyes to him for a mere second, making things seem much more realistic for the first time. Your lips tremble a little when you catch his sight and it immediately gives Junmyeon the light of a thousand stars. Of all the people that knew true beauty, you are one. 

“Of course muzhsta!” Sanghyuk answers, reaching for Junmyeon’s hand and shaking it comfortably. He smiles at the older boy but the Prince is too busy thinking. He's got an idea, a means of communication to one silenced person to another. “You can draw the most beautiful things and write about them, then give them to chynarej and she’ll give them to me!”

Junmyeon nods, grinning to Sanghyuk but also to himself. Though he wishes to see you as well, he's too busy devising a plan in his own mind. He may not be what the kingdom wanted, but he'd be what you wanted in the end. 

His talents, as great as they may be, were not for a kingdom to enjoy. The world around him would nod and smile to acknowledge but they would never appreciate. They'd never _understand._ Prince Junmyeon hoped that there was one person who would understand, who would be able to treasure what he does; treasure _him_. 

Junmyeon wants the girl who asked what he was drawing, after watching his precise movements for an hour, to watch over him until the end of time. 

****

The Prince stands by the side of the doorway with a blank expression. A part of him is nervous but he reminds himself that what he has done is anonymous. If the maid didn't like it then he is sure that Minho will help him cover up for what has happened. Minho could have easily seen another man from inside the palace walk inside the maid’s chambers to leave a note.

The flaw in Junmyeon’s plan was that the girl would know exactly who wrote to her because of the genius behind it. Of course that very same genius had accounted for this and changed his writing style ever so slightly to make it work out – he’d added some unnecessary words here and there, as well as signing it as ‘ _KSH_ ’ instead of ‘ _KJM_ ’ like he usually would have. _Suho_. It was the name that he would adopt when becoming King as a reassurance to the people around him.

Minho turns the corner and Junmyeon is quick to catch his arm. Junmyeon believes that he can trust Minho, as well as the others who often could be seen around Minho like Jonghyun and Kibum. Though the Prince is given a strange look by Minho, the slightly younger boy is used to such strange motions from the Prince so overlooks his strong hand. “Prince Junmyeon, is something the matter?”

“Did you happen to see (y/n) in there?” Junmyeon asks. He keeps his voice low as he lets his head turn to the side slightly in an attempt to peek inside. Zenphyro forbid that someone other than his friend see him. He’ll be considered a big fool than Prince Chanyeol when he pledged his allegiance to whoever Prince Baekhyun did. “I mean – _uhm_ – there isn’t a chance that you have been able to see Sanghyuk’s maid, have you?”

There’s a slight eye roll from Minho as he smirks at Junmyeon’s words. The Prince looked so innocent in his position, tormented by a girl who would not look him in the eye. It was a shame, really. “The letter is on her bed, _Master_ _Suho_. Would you stop worrying about it? She’ll receive it.”

“Yah! Don’t call me that here, we don’t know who is listening.”

“Exactly, Prince Junmyeon. Which is why you need to stop worrying and go upstairs until I bring you a response,” Minho tells him. The messenger was a level-headed boy that Junmyeon should have probably listened to more. “Most people will begin to question why you’re down here, will they not? It looks strange for the silent Prince to suddenly be happy and flinging himself around the tower. They will guess that something has happened.”

Prince Junmyeon hums, looking to his right and adjusting the sleeves of his shirt that has become slightly rattled in his attempts to keep himself concealed whilst looking for a desire from within. He clears his throat, looking to Minho with questioning eyes. “What could they… What _will_ they think has happened?”

“They may believe that our Prince has fallen in love,” Minho states. He shrugs his shoulders, despite the look of despair on Junmyeon’s face. The Prince would deny it at all costs, for your sake and for his. He is not _in love_. Love wouldn’t blossom so easily, he was no fool. But yet he could not think about what would happen to you if someone did begin to believe Junmyeon _was_ in love. 

“Does it seem that way now?” Junmyeon asks. He can feel a tout of butterflies in his stomach at the thought alone. He assures himself again, he is _not_ in love. He enjoys the feeling of someone appreciating him and his work. “I am not in love, I just wish to see more of her. I am not in love with a girl because she asked me what I was drawing. Only Prince Chanyeol would be like that.”

“Don’t count yourself so blameless, Prince Junmyeon. It seems to me like I am not the one you’re trying to convince you’re not in love with the girl. But, I do agree, you’re not in love. How long it will take, I do not know, but you will. Sleep with some aventurine under your pillow tonight – it will help with your heart and your creativity.”

Junmyeon does not want to appear weak but the second he hears the cheerful laughter of youths he smiles to himself knowingly. He’s lost, especially in the look that Minho gives him, so decides quite rapidly that he needs to leave – as soon as possible, if he could. “Right, aventurine. Got’cha, Minho, I’ll be off now. Got to make the others think I’m _not in love_!”

The Prince leaves up the stairs he so gracefully ran down earlier to give what he wanted to Minho, almost tripping a couple times as he takes the steps a few at once, dashing off as quickly as possible. He has many ideas of what he can do, he knows that one way to catch your attention is art but he fears he’ll be found out pretty quickly if he draws something for you.

Junmyeon fears, quite severely, a punishment for this all. Again on your behalf; it was not _illegal_ for him to be talking to you but he feared a response. He wanted one, that was undoubted. He wished for you to send him the stars in the sky if you could so the two of you would be able to talk about them all night and…

He pauses mid step. The Prince of Haveghem has a major realisation and it hits him quite hard – hard enough that he almost falls back down the stairs he has been climbing so quickly. Prince Junmyeon has no idea _why_ he’s doing all of this for you. Why is he risking your livelihood because he wants some appreciation for his work? He’s not usually this selfish. He’s never selfish.

Prince Junmyeon is not in love – he did not need to confirm that. What the Prince did know, however, was that this girl was on his mind a ridiculous amount of time. It had started when you asked him what he was drawing and carried on every time you walked past his window and made him smile unknowingly. 

You were the sun and he was the midnight sky. You brightened him, but it was a natural process. A metaphor only fitting of a relationship that the gods themselves blessed. Junmyeon did not have that level of correspondence with these gods in question to allow himself the access to such a description. 

What is he saying? This was irrational. Prince Junmyeon must visit the local doctor soon to have his head checked for any signs of infection. His thoughts were disorganised and he wasn’t focuses on what was important. No, he can focus only on… _you_. He’s not in love. He can’t be in love. He hasn’t spoken to you since he was nine. He can’t love a _maid_.

 But when he hears your voice, he’s all ears for what you have to say. He cares not for the fact it could be something he would hate to hear, but only that it is your voice and that is what he needs. Again, another stair is almost fallen down as Junmyeon tries to position himself closed to the middle of the spiral so he can hear you talking.

“Master Minho, I have something for you,” you say softly. Junmyeon observes from the balcony of the spiral, looking down at where you stand before Minho at the bottom. His cheeks begin to blush at the thought of response that comes from your own mind. “This was in my room but I believe it was delivered to the wrong place.”

Minho reaches his hand out to take what you want to give to him, and Junmyeon almost feels his heart stop. He can't give himself away so uses the last of his self control to hold him back on the stairs, only to listen to what you want to say. "You are talking about this?"

"It is not for me," you insist. 

"It is," Minho argues back. Junmyeon can thank his lucky stars that Minho is helping – who knew what would happen if someone found out that Minho was involved in this too. The boy would have no family to go back to. "It was given to me personally. It is for you and only you."

Junmyeon swallows hard as you nod once, looking back down at his delicately wrapped letter that he did only want you to see. No one else had read the words apart from him, so Junmyeon is very grateful when you retract your hand and accept what was given to you. "May I know who it is from?"

"Does it have no sender noted?" Minho counters. He smiles at you and shrugs his shoulders as you give him a very blank stare due to the confusion buzzing around your head. 

"Yes, it does. _Suho_. I don't know who this is," you answer, sounding out the syllables of Junmyeon's pseudonym very carefully. The Prince can only gush to himself about the way your lips move when saying his name. He wants you to say it to him. He wants to paint you. "Is it a royal in Daschem? You're not sending me there too, are you? I've been doing all the work like asked, I wish to stay here. Please, Master Minho, I don't want to leave."

Junmyeon cannot help but frown at your protests. He doesn’t think that you’re leaving, he’s not even concerned that you are leaving. He can make that change. He just wants to know why you don’t consider him as an option to the one who could have sent the letter. 

“It is from someone in Haveghem, I assure you. But do you have a response? It would be best if I could give a response to the one who sent this so that they will know how to act next.”

You nod, to Junmyeon’s relief. He doesn’t like hiding in the dark and being so secretive but it is for the best, he believes. His mind is running wild with thoughts and he knows that soon he’ll have to lie down to avoid a serious injury. Is it possible for someone to be in such a state of disarray? Prince Junmyeon believes that no one will know, but he certainly is not prepared for your next answer.

“Tell them that their words are beautiful, but I will not listen. After all, a faceless man’s words are as good as live man’s will.”

****

“What are you painting muzhsta?” Sanghyuk asks. His small hands tap on Junmyeon’s arm and the Prince immediately stops what he’s doing to observe the boy. Though Junmyeon smiles he is secretly looking around for one person, the only one who followed his cousin around wherever the young royal went.

“I am painting someone beautiful,” Junmyeon responds. He looks up upon seeing your delicate figure trail after Sanghyuk, abruptly stopping to bow when you see the Prince looking your way. “When you go to Daschem, I’ll let you take these so you can be reminded of home whenever you are homesick.”

Sanghyuk’s eyebrows are pulled together as he looks up to the painting, humming in content like an observer of the greatest galleries around Daohrjin. “Who is this chynarej? She looks pretty, muzhsta. Is she a princess?”

“Not a princess yet,” Junmyeon tells the boy. He catches your eyes this time, and offers a graceful smile to you in an attempt to have you feel more comfortable around him. Instead of looking away this time, you just smile back and bow your head to avoid more of these stares. So, Junmyeon continues, “she may be a princess and then a queen, or just a queen. But she is special, she will be remembered by everyone in this land to come. Your children’s children’s children will know her name.”

Sanghyuk inquisitively reaches his hand to point at the missing lips of the girl that Junmyeon is trying to portray. The young royal would not understand at his age the message it conveyed but Junmyeon hoped you saw what he was getting at – he'd know if you looked at his work, because he couldn't take you. “Muzhsta-ah, there is no mouth. Will you not draw a mouth?”

“I will eventually, don't worry. But I'm trying to show a message in the picture. Listen to me, Sanghyuk – if you have no mouth, you are...”

“Silent!” Sanghyuk exclaims, right on the cue that Junmyeon wants him to. The little boy grins widely with Junmyeon’s nod and turns back to you still ecstatic. “Chynarej, what do you think of muzhsta’s work?”

Prince Junmyeon turns back to you expectantly after looking away to Sanghyuk for the best part of twenty seconds. He is pleasantly surprised to meet your eyes this time, and feels his heart skip a beat when you don't look away from him this time. You do, however, look to the painting and your lips fall immediately. 

" _Woah_ ," you mumble. Junmyeon's smile stretches from ear to ear at the informal way of talking. You take a step forward so you're standing just to the right of Junmyeon – you're so close that he can surely hear your heart beating – to observe the painting closer. "Prince Junmyeon, this is comely. But will you not say who she is?"

Humble, he believes – Kim Junmyeon thinks that you must not recognise your own face because you do not think someone like him would want to capture your beauty. Of course you're wrong, but Junmyeon wants to wait before alerting you that you're featured in his oeuvre. "You can take a guess."

"She will soon be a princess or a queen. She is special and all will remember her name..." You say softly. Junmyeon is inspired to write the next greatest novel just from the look you give when observing the artwork. "But she is silent right now. Prince Junmyeon, is she the lady who will take your hand in the future?"

Junmyeon hesitantly nods. He doesn’t wish to say yes because that was never going to be completely set in stone. “She is, yes.”

“Muzhsta is so lucky to be marrying someone so pretty!” Sanghyuk says. He smiles widely at the Prince who’s now dropped his paintbrush on the side for later use. Junmyeon has focused his attention on you now. 

“Sanghyuk, we should be getting to your class now,” you remind the young boy. Junmyeon takes your change in conversation as an indicator that someone is either watching the two of you, or that you no longer want to talk with him. The Prince hopes it is not the latter. “Thank you, Prince Junmyeon, for showing us your work. It is beautiful.”

Junmyeon shakes his head, but before you can walk away from him he grabs your wrist to stop you from leaving. He can almost hear Minho cursing to him right now for being so sudden with his movements. “Sanghyuk knows the way to Teacher Jinki’s home, doesn’t he? I actually would like to request that you help me move these things up to my room, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course Prince Junmyeon,” you answer with a bow.

The same Prince sends Sanghyuk off to his teacher, conveniently also one of his allies in the castle. Junmyeon has the bright idea of trying to sneak in to Jinki’s home so he can see you there, but he will exact that plan another day. For now, he knows that he has a flight of stairs at least with you. That’s all that he needs to finally talk _with_ you, not _to_ you.

He tries to pick up the easel but you beat him to it, taking the edges of the white canvas in your hands to ease the Prince’s discomfort. It was what you were trained to do after all. He’s surprised he even managed to get you to look him in the eyes, but he’s sure it is all bringing you closer together. 

Junmyeon wonders if you felt the same way he did when your fingers brushed in the moment. He has to remind himself that he doesn’t love you, that _this_ is not love. He’s just happy that someone is paying attention to his skills rather than what he lacks. Surely. “I can take that.”

“It’s okay, you lead the way,” you tell Junmyeon, keeping a tight hand on the frame to stop Junmyeon taking it back. He doesn’t fight back because he knows if you’re caught by his father and Junmyeon is the one holding the object then you’ll be sent to the coast to live the rest of your life as a recluse, and Junmyeon can’t have that. 

So he accepts it and leads you, the only thing his hands being the paint and paintbrushes he always managed to have, along with his own heart that rolled atop his sleeve. He looks back to you a few times as he takes you to the inside of the tower, but avoids making conversation. He finds himself at a loss of words, he feels as though he used them all up in a poem you claimed was for another. 

“Prince Junmyeon, may I ask you something?”

He nods, looking back to you with a questioning stare. He didn’t expect for you to try and say anything to him, and it just causes his heart to beat faster. 

“You say that you are yet to paint the lips of this lady because she is silent. That would make sense, but silence implies that she can speak but chooses not to. No mouth at all would suggest that she doesn’t have any ability to talk at all. I understand the motive behind the work but don’t you think that it may be considered slightly contradictory by critics?”

Junmyeon hums. He had not thought of this, he hadn’t even considered that he would send it to be displayed in a gallery. He thought of it as a gift for someone he considered to be special to him. “Do you think it is contradictory?”

“My opinion does not match up to the word of the greatest critics out there. You should ask them, Prince Junmyeon, they’d be happy to give their opinion.”

“If you would like me to be honest, (y/n), the only opinion that I need is your own,” Junmyeon says. He hopes not to be too bold and he certainly makes a mental note of the innocent look on your face at his words. “This isn’t work that will be sent to a gallery. I will keep it and present it to my future wife. No one would appreciate this like she would.”

You don’t speak again, instead opting to follow Junmyeon in silence up to his room, barely even breathing too loud for anyone else to hear. Why does Junmyeon even like you in this way? He can’t explain it. He thinks that it is an attraction to your physical appearance that’s lead on to him thinking you’re what he wants in life. He really must see that doctor soon to check that he’s okay, because it is not often that Junmyeon lets his emotions get the better of him. 

Junmyeon does strike luck however when you’re both in his room. He asks you to set down the canvas in the corner, and in the short moment he has the genius idea that comes from your words spoken to Minho. _After all, a faceless man’s words are as good as live man’s will_. He doesn’t want to straight out say to you who he is because he’s worried such a forward approach will scare you off – it is scaring him right now.

“If Sanghyuk is moved to Daschem then you will be staying here, I will make sure of it,” Junmyeon says. You’re stood by the door to his room that is shut like he always kept it. Anyone who wanted to intrude on your conversation would have to knock and that would save him lots of explanation. “When we were younger you were punished for talking to me and I won’t let the same thing happen again. In fact, I wish for us to talk in the same way we have done today for a long, long time. So you won’t go to Daschem.”

You breathe a sigh of relief at Junmyeon’s words. He takes a step closer to you smiles weakly, an encouragement for you to speak with him normally again. “Thank you, Prince Junmyeon.”

“Don’t thank me, that’s what friends are for,” Junmyeon tells you, soft voice cutting through the slightly tense atmosphere.

“Friends?” you ask. There’s a frown falling on your delicate features and Junmyeon has an overwhelming desire to kiss away your confusion. However that thought is flushed away with those thuds in his head. “You are the Prince, I am a maid here. We can’t be friends, I’m here to help you. That is all.”

Junmyeon shakes his head, resting his hands behind his back with one fist in the other. “You and I shouldn’t keep ourselves hung up over the levels of status in this land. Would you say that dogs and cats cannot be friends just because they are different?”

“Most of the dogs and cats around Haveghem hate each other,” you remind him with a slight laugh.

“Yet when you leave the gates into the meadows and take a path to a lost world that’s surrounded by trees of every species and there are countless animals from each end of this earth, you can find cats and dogs who both live in harmony and do not care for what others think of them. But of course, you didn’t come here to listen to what I think about social equality.”

A hesitant nod follows Junmyeon’s words, but he does not back down. Instead, he walks to you so that he’s merely inches from you and offers you a smile you can’t refuse. He wants you to talk, so you will. “When you were nine I asked what you were drawing and you didn’t get to tell me. It was a tall tree that had pink leaves, but you couldn’t tell me what it was because you and I shouldn’t be talking. What was it that you was drawing?”

“A cherry blossom,” Junmyeon answers. 

“I haven’t seen one of those before,” you say softly. Junmyeon doesn’t wish to put you in the uncomfortable situation of embarrassment for not knowing what he’s talking about, but he fears he will talk to soon so shuts his lips so you can speak. “Prince Junmyeon, you have many talents that you should show to the world. If you and I are to be friends, then you have to start showing off what you can do.”

Junmyeon pauses. He hasn’t thought of displaying his works to others. Around the tower people would mock him for his paintings and his songs, but he has yet to show anyone else what he can do. “Will you help me?”

“I will try, but I don’t believe it will be hard for the Prince to cascade his works around his own land,” you answer with a casual tone. 

“I will not present them as Prince Junmyeon’s work,” he tells you tenderly. He glances down at the painting which is still without an author and smiles to himself. He uses a thin paintbrush and dips it in black paint that he’d left on the floor with the painting, coating the bottom right corner with a pseudonym that may come in handy for more than one reason. “These are the works of Kim Suho.”

Your brows are pulled tightly together at his words. “ _Suho_? You’re using the name… Suho?”

“Does it sound familiar?” Junmyeon asks, raising a brow.

It is as familiar as the way his heart beats so quickly when you’re around

****

Junmyeon is, for the first time in his life, scared of what is happening around him. He's left the tower but never to go somewhere like this. He didn't imagine he would be following you into a tavern in the part of the capital where _normal_ people go. He's lost. He thought he knew this world but obviously not. 

He said that he would trust you from now on to help him, and your first suggestion was to go someone where your name didn't matter. He did not expect this tavern, he did not expect himself to grab your hand tight at the sudden rush of people in the small space, and he most definitely did not expect someone to ask you _already_ what you were selling. 

“This is my friend’s work!” You beam, holding up the sheets of paper that had rough paintings of flowers and landscapes which Junmyeon had sketched out in his free time. “Here, see – Kim Suho. Buy his work now for a lower price and it will be in high demand in ten years, I promise you. He's very talented.”

Junmyeon attempts to hide the blush on his cheeks but it is no use – he enjoys the compliments you're giving him and he feels so _normal_ here too. It is strange. He thinks he is no longer a Prince who’s hated for the first time in his life too. 

“Suho? I haven't heard of him before. But I agree, these works are very good. What's your price?” The lady asks. She inspects the drawings for any sign of counterfeit whilst you work out a price and Junmyeon sits there with anxiety written all over him. 

“Let's start with twenty zol?” You suggest. The lady’s eyebrows rise in surprise and Junmyeon recognises it very clearly as though she believes she should be paying more. But Junmyeon keeps quiet, he can assume you know more about this world than he does. “Or fifty zol for three of them. Then we would be able to afford a room here tonight. You'd be doing us a huge favour.”

Junmyeon was told by you not to bring any money and he understood why now. He feared that if he brought zol with him it would have been stolen because he looked a touch out of place with his fancy silks and handwoven delicates. He was not aware, however, that you would be staying here. Maybe it was a ploy to evoke sympathy from the woman for more money. His father did it all the time with allies. 

The lady smiles and reaches down to her pouch, much to Junmyeon’s surprise again. It is so foreign here. He expected her to try to lower the price until it was barely a zol a piece. But this lady is supportive and kind to the two young _supposed travellers._ “I'll take this to my shop and spread your name around, Kim Suho. I'm sure many people will be willing to buy your work. Anything else you need sold, I'm here every other night.”

She's gone before Junmyeon can get a word in, but he's happy. He looks to you and embraces the warm glow that flows from your lips and how at peace you seem in the environment. He notices the way that you just stare at him, clutching the zol in the bag until you realise this must have been rather strange. Junmyeon would have liked for you to stare at him until the sun set forever. 

“Shall we get a drink?” You ask. Your hand reaches for Junmyeon just after he nods to agree, pulling him with you towards the end of the hall where the owner of the tavern stands cleaning his mugs and chatting with ladies. 

He doesn't know how he hasn't been noticed yet, but he's glad he hasn't. He'd be ridiculed like before and he'd be lucky to make it out alive. He felt like this alter ego, he felt like Suho for once instead of Prince Junmyeon who had no backbone according to the people. It almost makes him not want to be King. He wouldn't be able to do this. 

“What’s that?” Junmyeon asks, pointing to a mug in the hands of a miner. “It looks like it will tastes of strawberries. Can I try some?”

You nod with your lips pulled into a smile, calling the owner and asking for two cups of a mead that Junmyeon couldn't quite remember. He just notices the way the syllables fall from your lips and he can't help the pounding in his heart as you move closer to him so more people can order their own drinks. “It is mead from this part of town. This tavern is known so well for it and it tastes a lot like strawberries, yes. And Prince Junmyeon, you need to undo your top button because you look to formal to be in here!”

“Don't call me Prince,” Junmyeon says quietly. He rests his two elbows on the bar and cocks his head to the side, pushing down the overbearing need to get frustrated at your use of the word _Prince_. “Here I'm not Junmyeon, I'm Suho. You should call me that, and you're my friend anyway so it is unnecessary for you to call me by Prince anyway. I don't use your job title, do I?”

You hum softly, reaching your hand over to Junmyeon’s neck and opening the button you had mentioned before. Junmyeon just watches, skin burning from where your hand touches him ever so slightly. Had your lips always been this enticing? Junmyeon doesn't remember such an attraction to them before but he wishes to kiss you so much right now. 

He still stares, and even when you notice he doesn't look away. He's _not_ in love. He has to keep telling himself this as the pair of you just keep watching and looking and it is _so_ intense. He’s not kissed someone before so he doesn't know if he should kiss you but his mind is a mess and he thinks that he _must_ kiss you. 

So he does. It makes his head spin and he's sure that time stops, but the second his lips touch yours something feels so right. 

For a few seconds you don't move and panic sets into Junmyeon’s mind because he thinks that something is wrong. He doesn't know what to do so that things are better, he doesn't even know if what he is doing is right to begin with. His heart thuds so loudly that everyone can probably hear it. 

But then you kiss back and everything falls into place. 

“Junmyeon,” you mumble after pulling back from him. Junmyeon so typically reaches his fingers up to his lips and touches the skin he thinks is tingling, and as he smooths over the skin he looks up to you. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn't have done that.”

He frowns. “No, no. Don't apologise to me, (y/n). I wanted to kiss you. I… Can I kiss you again?”

There's a timid nod from you and that's what Junmyeon needs. He kisses you again but this time with more need and less worry. A hand raises into your hair, his fingers sweeping through so he can hold the back of your neck and bring you closer to him. He engulfs you, taking in all of your taste as he steps closer to you and rests the other hand on the small of your back. 

He's starting to lose his breath but he doesn't want to pull away. _Ever_. All eyes might be on the two of you and it might give him away to everyone as the very Prince they love to hate, but it no longer matters to him. He embraces you, holds you like his own until you naturally fall apart and the hand you've rested on Junmyeon’s cheek is ever so gently stroking his skin like he's fragile china.

Prince Junmyeon _might_ be in love with you. 

What love is, he has no idea, but he hopes this is it. He hopes that the way his heart beats so quickly when you're around, and taste of your mouth that has his tongue and lips on fire, was all just a side effect of being in love. He _wants_ to be in love. 

“I want to live in a world where marriage is about feelings instead of politics,” Junmyeon tells you. He retracts his hand from your hair and bows his head to you, waiting for a second before bringing his lips to your cheek so he can peck the flushed skin softly. “I know not of who my future bride will be yet, but I will choose who it is. She will be someone that I love, she will be someone who I want to be with. Though I have not chosen yet, I have an idea as to who I want.”

Prince Junmyeon, in the moment, feels relaxed. He looks to where your drinks have been laid and takes one, drinking a gulp before placing it back down and wiping the back of his hand over his mouth to dry himself. The action makes you laugh, none the less, and even though Junmyeon is so close to being able to admit an ounce of his feelings a cruel reality hits him straight in the face. 

Tomorrow, it won't be like this. Tomorrow you'll call him Prince again and this won't matter. Tomorrow, the day only hours away, would put him straight back in the position of a hated soon-to-be leader that wished to end wars and let love be free for all.

He believes that there is one thing to do, and you’ll give him the strength to do it.

"She would be lucky to have you, Junmyeon," you say softly. He notices a little disapointment in your eyes and grimaces. He wants to tell you that you're who he's thinking of but it was still too forward. Minho would be scowling at him for the rest of his life. Of course you take Junmyeon's silence as a bad thing and are quick to mutter an apology. "S-Sorry again, I meant Suho."

Junmyeon nods hesitantly, but finds his mouth opening before he has a chance to stop himself speaking. "Would you marry me?"

"You want to marry me?" You ask. 

"I-I-I mean, would you marry a Prince? Someone who will be King and forced to do things they won't want to do. Would you do it?" 

"It wouldn't affect me as to what their talents or their class was. I would marry them for who they are inside and what they are like to me," you tell Junmyeon. He's focused on your words until he really wants to kiss you again and it hits him hard. He manages to subside the feeling enough to allow you to speak again, but it is hard. "That is why someone would be lucky to have you, because of all the people I've met in this world you are the only one who thinks similarly to me."

Junmyeon, quite shamelessly, slowly sinks his lips on your own. He tilts his head ever so slightly to the right, nose just touching your own as he slowly brings his body closer to yours again. Before you even have time to think about it, he’s smothering your body with his in a way to get you closer to him. 

The ache, the _need_ to kiss you and feel you would always be insatiable for Junmyeon, so he doesn't know why he's still trying.  As he deepens the kiss, you find your fingers twisting into the locks of his hair, tugging at the ends as you begged silently for him to get closer to you. He pulls away abruptly, falling endlessly in love with the way you sigh when he pulls back from you. 

"We should hire that room you mentioned earlier, (y/n)."

You nod quickly, calling the owner over again and quickly requesting a door that you could both keep for the night. It was relatively cheap in Junmyeon's eyes but you managed to barter your way down to a better prince, voice snapping as your desire for him grew too. You wanted to be in that room more than anything, you wanted to be alone with Junmyeon.

The door is slammed shut and locked quicker than you can tell Junmyeon that there even is a lock on the door. He pushes you back until your back is on the wall, lips moulding with yours until his body is pressing into yours in a similar way to how his hands grip your cheeks as though you're simply a statue of sand in his fingers. 

"I want you," Junmyeon muses. He finds fear in his mind because he doesn't quite know what to do when he's got you on the bed. He assumes that you don't know, either, and comes to the conclusion that this will only be as good as you and he both make it. "Will you let me?"

Your reply is quick, a sharp ' _yes_ ' at his question that lets you get the point across. You need him, too, though you're not as open to admitting it. Without the ease of familiarity Junmyeon guides you back to the bed that's covered with freshly washed sheets and topped with a few pillows for comfort, and they are strewn from the bed merely a minute after you're left beneath him.

Junmyeon's left hand trails down the left side of your body. He starts with your neck, drawing over your collar bone that is soon exposed with Junmyeon's quick movements. He takes off your dress, followed by all you have underneath, and soon they are left in a pile alongside the pillows, to be joined by his own clothes that you were pulling off of his body. 

It was messy as you both try to get into a position for this. It is silent but it is comfortable, with the two of you sharing glances as you smooth over each other's skin to feel the softness beneath and the taut muscle too. You can't deny that, as the Prince before you stares down at you with wide eyes that show so much emotion that it can be considered inhumane, you _want_ this just as badly as he does.

"Please Junmyeon," you say to him softly. He stops what he's doing with his hands, glancing down at your uncovered body and taking a deep breath. He hasn't felt this way before. Junmyeon has never needed to do something so badly that his entire body _throbs_ for it. He tries touching your core for a brief moment, gulping when he feels how wet you are for him. It is _unreal_.

He guides his length into you, stopping when he presses his tip into you and hears you gasp at the sudden adjustment. He gives you a moment, bringing his head back up towards you and buries it in the crook of your neck so he can caress your skin with his lips and get a better taste of your skin. 

“I think that I might be in love with you,” he mumbles against your skin. You don't hear him because you're lost with what he is doing, and Junmyeon wishes that he can hear you say it back but he's not entirely sure he would have heard you either. 

One of his hands is on your shoulder to hold you down and stop you moving too much. The way that you start to cry his name he pushes his length back into you makes him feel like he is the King of the entire world, yet alone a Prince of Haveghem. The way he rocks into you, the way he tenderly nips at your skin in ways that Minho has described to him is all his way of showing you that his words are entirely true. 

Junmyeon _is_ in love with you.

Junmyeon pulls out slowly, and eases himself back in with an audible grunt. Slow, that's how he is playing this, mostly because he doesn't know how long he can last and he doesn't want this to end ever. He wants to make love to you for the rest of time – to you and no other. 

Your hand rakes through his hair as you attempt to get his attention, fingertips touching his scalp in such a soft manner that Junmyeon fears he may be imagining it. He hums as though he’s thinking, but doesn’t increase his slow and steady thrusts into you that were continued with small noises from his lips. When he does look up to you after your silence, he is truly stunned by how you look. Pulchritudinous, he might say, but he can't get such a long word out with how you're making him feel right now.

"I'd be _your_ wife, Junmyeon," you tell him breathlessly. He pauses in the middle of driving himself into you, letting your words fully sink into him. Of all the things that he wanted to hear, that has him so close to the edge that it is truly unbelievable. 

"And I want to marry _you_ ," he tells you. The words are drowned out by the way you call him name from how close you are to breaking the knot at the pit of your stomach. Junmyeon knows this, and he does what he can to help. "I'll do anything for you."

He gets harder, focusing all of his intentions on getting you to a point where you can't physically breath fully anymore. You're so absorbed in Junmyeon that it has taken over and it leaves you with one outcome. A final cry of his name, a moan of pleasure and it is all set in stone. You're his. He'll make sure that comes true.

****

Prince Junmyeon looks onto his father who sits opposite him on the table. Everyone has gathered here to listen to what the once silence Prince had to say, and though Junmyeon felt a little nervous all he had to do was glance to his left and you were there. Watching, waiting, encouraging him to go a little further with what he was doing. Of course you used the excuse that you were watching Sanghyuk and that worked for the most part, but many of the men were questioning why such a young boy was in here in the first place. 

“We must talk about the future,” Junmyeon states. He narrows his eyes at the King and swallows harshly to make sure he doesn't mess this up. He has been practicing his speech for a while now, even asking you to stand by and correct anything out of place. “For the future of Haveghem, for its people too, I believe as your eldest son and Prince of the Kim household that you should step down.”

“You what?” The King asks. 

“I see it fit that you abdicate the throne, effective immediately.”

There are hushed whispers around that Junmyeon groans at. In one way, he wishes that everyone will just tell him what their concerns are, and on the contrary he never wants to hear them speak again for all the discriminative things they have said. One of the Kings closest allies stands up, thick grey brows pulled together and lips tense. “Prince Junmyeon, you cannot tell the King to give up his throne so easily. His majesty is the greatest King of Haveghem there has ever been.”

“In your own opinion he may be, but a King that says some people are worth more than others purely based on their parents’ class or their own talents is no King that should rule Haveghem anymore.”

The Prince looks across the table and is enlightened to see a fair few people nodding their heads in agreement. Though he didn't expect them all to agree, he was surprised by the amount who seemed to think similarly to him. It was still quite likely that none of them actually cared for what he had to say afterwards because Junmyeon was still the Prince that all deemed unnecessary. Unliked. He was the nation’s bête noire. 

“You’re suggesting that a man who can play a harp should be considered as great as one who can wield two swords and conquer a nation?” One of the King’s men ask. The same man laughs afterwards obvious inferring his own interpretation of Prince Junmyeon. 

“I am suggesting that everyone is equal to another,” Junmyeon states. He raises his head, looking over the men one last time. “Like our two gods, a man and woman united together by peace and love, it should not matter who you are or what you are good at. If you can sew, if you can dance, if you can fight or if you can mend, they make you who you are and that should be considered holistically. We should not define one by their race, gender or situation in life."

Someone among the men hums along with Junmyeon's words and it sparks a reaction in the younger of the men seated. They, for a reason that Junmyeon assumes is to do with the fact he brought the gods into this, see his point in a light they hadn't before. His heart rises with adoration, especially when the King opens his mouth to talk himself. "You wish for me to abdicate?"

"Yes," Junmyeon answers clearly. 

"Then I will," the King states. Junmyeon is left to question the ease of the situation. His father is not a man who gives something up so easily, so he could assume today would be the same. Prince Junmyeon purely despises of the look in his father's eye and the smirk on his lips when he looks up. "I will abdicate, pass my throne on to someone deserving of it. Someone who has the best capability to look after this Kingdom _just_ as I have."

Junmyeon nods, looking to his left again to see you standing there with defeat on your face. It seem as though you have both come to the same conclusions about what was going to happen following the King's wrath. Junmyeon would not get what he wanted, he could see that happening already. 

"Shall we tell the people then?" One of the men asks. Junmyeon catches his eye and almost scares the young boy to death. None of them saw Junmyeon as having this level of control. 

"You shall tell the people that on the next full moon I shall be abdicating my throne," the King says. He stops to take a breath, laughing at the end of his pause in such a sick manner than Junmyeon wishes he was unable to hear his father ever again. "And when you announce it, tell them that I will not pass the crown to Prince Junmyeon, and that instead I will be appointing my rule to King Wu Yifan of Daschem, to join the two Kingdoms together as one."

No one talks and it is deafening to be involved in. Junmyeon doesn't know what to say, as do most of the other people in the room who are stunned with the decision from the King. It is an elder that talks this time, one that Junmyeon knew was close with the King. "You wish to do _what_?"

"Are you suggesting that Prince Junmyeon is fit to rule?" The King retaliates.  

“It would seem to be a better idea than giving up our home to King Wu,” the elder dictates in aggression. He stands up, matching Junmyeon’s height as he looks to the Prince himself. “You. You are a Prince of this land and yet you dismantle the reputation we have created for this great place. All that people think of when we speak of you is that you are a silent, weak individual who cannot speak up for themselves…”

The elder stops his glare at Junmyeon and turns to the King himself, “…but you are the man that lead us to believe those things. What weak man faces the King in such a manner that demands change? Did you not wish to have change? Do you wish for Haveghem to remain weak towards the rest of Daohrjin?”

“I must protest against that—”

“Queen Kim Dana and King Oh Sehun have both implemented new rules which make their court desirables to foreigners, and from what I hear their new rules are much similar to that which our Prince here is suggested, and yet he is weak?” Another elder chips in his own opinion to what is happening between them. Though the King’s protest was an attempt to stop them, their interests are not the King. Their interests are Haveghem. “It seems that you are weak. You are letting go of the Kim dynasty that have ruled Haveghem since our records began all because you do not wish to stand up to King Wu?”

The room is silent once more. Junmyeon wishes to speak but fears what he can say. Again he looks to you and you nod in the direction of the seat which is guarded by two of the King’s men and a maid of the King’s service. He knows what you want him to say but he's nervous. He doesn't want to say it but he must. 

“Daschem and Haveghem will never become one, they are to be ruled by separate entities and Haveghem will repel all attempts from King Wu to takeover our land. If anyone should try to push past our borders they will be sent to prison for crimes against the new King, who will be named by our current King on the night of the red moon. It will be a warning given now that if King Wu Yifan is declared the new King of Haveghem, it will be seen as treason against the land of Haveghem and will be treated the exact same way.”

One elder stands. Then another, then more who follow. All but the King stand now and they each bow their heads in union, the oldest and most loyal to _Haveghem_ beginning a vow in union. “At your command, Prince Junmyeon.”

It is Prince Junmyeon that has succeed and he can't comprehend it in his own mind. The first thing he can do once he's bowed to his elders and left the room is fall to his knees and let out a sigh of relief for all of this. He would never be able to explain the fear he felt at his own father’s harsh words. Of course there was still a chance that a different Prince would be named but at least Junmyeon had been able to prove that he was far more than just creativity. He could dictate this world like King Sehun and Queen Dana, and Haveghem could follow in the paths of the Northern states like many wanted. He would _not_ surrender to Wu Yifan; not now, not in forty years time and not _ever_. 

You are the first one that walks back through the door, with Sanghyuk by your side as usual. Prince Junmyeon doesn’t notice until you stand before him and crouch down to his level, smile erupting from your flushed cheeks and eyes gleaming in the light. You’re proud of him, you appreciate him and somewhere deep down you are learning to love him, too. It is all mutual and that is all that Junmyeon can ask of.  

“Well done, Prince Junmyeon,” you say softly. The Prince himself has to refrain from jumping into your arms and instead lets himself fall naturally, hands caressing your back as he rests his head on your shoulder and takes some deep breaths. “You’ve shown them who you really are inside. They will listen to you now and they will follow your lead.”

Sanghyuk joins the hug by throwing himself around both you and Junmyeon, his small hands holding the two of you together. “Thank you muzhsta! Do you know what this means now? I won’t have to go to Daschem, I won’t have to leave anywhere because you’re going to be the new King and you won’t send me away! I’m so happy!”

Prince Junmyeon can do all but blush, biting down on his lip as he looks from Sanghyuk and back to you. He's going to have to get used to his new title, but so will you he supposes. He had to ask first, that would be a hard thing on its own. The two of you can take the journey together. 

"Don't thank me, Sanghyuk. It was all your chynarej's idea."

"Chynarej is the best too!" Sanghyuk exclaims. He stands back and dips his head for the two, grin wide as he tells of his excitement for staying in his home. The small boy had a lot to learn about the world yet, but both you and Junmyeon could be thankful that what he did learn would come from those in Haveghem. "You both would be the best King and Queen of Haveghem, I think. Can chynarej be Queen?"

Junmyeon smiles. He looks to you, one lip pulled into his mouth by his teeth as he tries to think through every single word he's ever said to you. No work of art or poem he's composed had prepared him for this. Even what has just happened did not prepare him for this. Of all the ways he could have asked, this would be the most fitting. "Would (y/n) like to be Queen of Haveghem; my Queen?"


End file.
